


All That Glitters

by kayelem



Series: Stories From The Old Republic [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayelem/pseuds/kayelem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Corso Riggs sees the Captain saunter into the hangar on Ord Mantell, he knows he’s in trouble. After all, Skavak did try to warn him - "Broads like the Captain always cause more trouble than they're worth."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>A series of shorts in the Smuggler storyline, the things you don’t see, the moments in between, or a different interpretation of what you do see</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ord Mantell I: Swagger - Corso Riggs

> **ORD MANTELL I**  
>  **Swagger**  
>  **Corso Riggs**

Considering how many smuggler ships Corso has seen over the course of the conflict with the separtists, Corso expects something small: a ship designed for quick drop and runs, easy enough to maneuver that a child could do it, with heavy shields and little firepower. So to say that he’s surprised to see the massive XS Freighter barrel roll into sight is an understatement. The Captain maneuvers the bulky ship with an easy recklessness that Corso can admire, because the ease with which the ship avoids the blasts from the AA guns puts the Captain in a galaxy all his own. He's seen less skilled smugglers be forced to stay planetside for sometimes months because they could not avoid fire.

With a shake of his head, Corso calls ahead to Skavak and takes one last glance at the landing freighter before descending from his perch. He hits the ground with the loud thud of his boots and begins to jog, eager to see just what kind of man flies so brazenly into a warzone.

 _My kind of guy,_ he thinks with a wry smile, pulling open the hangar door.

He hears Skavak’s voice echo back through the hangar over the whirring of the freighter’s gangplank. “I can’t believe you made it through that separatist shooting gallery, Captain. Your ship’s not even scratched. It takes guts landing in the middle of a battlefield. Nice Flying.”

The chuckle that follows stops Corso in his tracks. “Yeah well, I owe it all to my lightning reflexes and crackerjack timing!”

A woman? The Captain of the XS Freighter is... a woman?

He’s still trying to swallow down his shock when he sees Skavak walk into view. “You’ve clearly had a lot of practice getting shot at.”

“Yeah, well... comes with the job,” she replies with another small chuckle, following in behind Skavak.

Corso’s breath catches as she walks into sight… no, not walks - _swaggers._ He can’t help be wonder if it’s deliberate, the slow roll of her hips and the almost lazy pace that she takes set to the tune of blaster fire outside. She props her svelte frame against a large crate, latching her hands behind her head as Skavak introduces himself and explains that he’s the one picking up the blasters in her cargo hold.

Corso doesn’t hear much of the conversation after that because a call comes in on his comm device. The separatists have somehow managed to overrun the local air defense cannon and have already used it quite effectively. Casualties are expected to be high and will definitely get higher if something isn't done. _Damnit_ , Corso thinks to himself, cutting off the comm call and jogging to where Skavak and the Captain are settling their business.

“Skavak, we’ve got a problem. Separatists took the air defense cannon.”

“What? Slow down, Corso, what are you talking about?”

Corso braves a glance at the Captain, still slanted back against the crate, counting the credits Skavak had just handed her, uninterested in their conversation. Corso explains about the call he just received, that the seps had used some kind of remote device and destroyed an incoming Republic transport. Out of the corner of his eye, Corso sees the Captain’s head perk up before she pushes herself away from the crate and saunters over.

“You got a name?” she wonders.

Now that he’s close enough, Corso can see that she’s been cybernetically enhanced, at least her eyes are because they’re an unnatural shade of honey gold and the pinprick of light at the center is definitely not a human trait. Corso wonders briefly if the ugly scar that splits one of her eyebrows had something to do with getting the cyber-optics. He does a once over for any other visible enhancements but can’t find any and figures that must only be her eyesight that she’s enhanced.

 _Stars_ , she is pretty, Corso can’t help but notice. Long, dark lashes, high angled cheekbones, and a perfectly curved mouth. Too pretty to be a Smuggler. Over the course of the conflict with the seperatists, Corso thought he had come to develop a fairly accurate image of the typical smuggler. Armed to the teeth, wary of anything that moved too quickly and always just a little _too_ shifty for Corso's comfort. He didn't trust many of them as far as he could have thrown them, and they probably would have sold their own grandmother's into slavery for the right price. But something about the Captain sets him at ease, where the other smugglers he's dealt with only instilled distrust and anxiety.  

Her hand waves in front of his face and Corso realizes that he’s been staring. “Huh?” He shakes himself, blinks and thanks the stars for his darker complexion because of the blush he can feel on his cheeks. “Oh! Corso Riggs, I’m with Skavak. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

A startled laugh falls from her lips. “ _Ma’am!_ Aren’t you adorable?” She shakes her head and seeming not to notice Corso shuffle his feet, asks, “What about these air defense cannons?”

“Oh, right!” he exclaims. “With the remote control stations, the separatists can override the defense cannon’s computer, turn that firepower against us anytime they want!”

Skavak breathes an annoyed sigh. “That’s not good news, Captain. They’ll blast you out of the sky before you can even think about taking off. I'd offer my help, but I have other things to attend to.”

Disbelief flashes across her face as she rests her weight on her back leg. “You don’t mean…”

“Unfortunately, I do,” he replies.

Corso catches on to Skavak’s train of thought. “They have stations all over the area, you’ll have to hit several before they lose control,” Corso explains. He highly dislikes the idea of sending the Captain all alone into a warzone, but he and Skavak have an appointment to keep. Corso figures if she could fly so effortlessly through the barrage of AA fire, a few inept separatists are going to be the least of her worries.

The Captain heaves a sigh as she begins to pull her long, dark hair to the back of her head. “Well then, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, my trigger finger needs a little exercise.”

Her eyes dart back to Corso’s long enough to throw him a wink and doesn’t wait to see if she’s startled him, before she turns and begins her slow swagger away. And Corso thinks that she _must_ do it on purpose because he’s finding it difficult to remain a gentleman and keep his eyes above the waistband of her trousers.

Beside him Skavak chuckles. “If I were you, kid, I’d stay far away from her.”

Corso startles at being caught blatantly staring and whips around to face his compatriot. “What? Why d’you say that?”

A smirk crosses Skavak’s face that Corso doesn’t completely understand. “Believe me, broads like the Captain always cause more trouble than they’re worth.”

But despite Skavak’s warning, part of Corso hopes that after the day is done that the Captain might choose to stay on Ord Mantell just a little while longer.


	2. Ord Mantell II: Betrayed - Corso Riggs

> ORD MANTELL II  
> Betrayed  
> Corso Riggs

An explosion goes off just outside the hangar that shakes the ground beneath Corso’s feet and his head darts up so fast, his neck cricks. When did the fight get so close and without raising the perimeter alarms?

“Shit!” Skavak exclaims, brandishing his blaster. “Too late. Hopefully the Captain disabled the targeting computers, she’s gonna need a quick take-off.”

Before Corso can say a word to him, Skavak’s darted off disappearing into the chaos that has suddenly surrounded them. Corso swears under his breath and un-holsters his rifle, darting into the thick of the fight at the hangar door, hoping to clear the separatists’ forces so they can close it. There's too much open space, too big of an entrance for the enemy to get through - they needed to close the hangar door to create a choke point from the regular doors, give them time to deal with the seps that would get trapped inside with them.

Corso moves through the throngs of people, firing shots left, right and center, body checking those who get close enough, too caught up in the adrenaline rush from the fight to pay much attention to his surroundings. All he can hear is his blood in his ears, a red haze over his gaze that reminds him all too much of the day his family died. But he just grits his teeth and fires another round, stepping over the body that drops before him. He can feel the chrun of rage in his stomach, blood -not his own- misted over his face and armor, the warm of the rifle in his hands.

He makes his way to the hangar’s door controls, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. But when Corso reaches it, he can see that the control has been sabotaged – the cover has been removed and wires jut out, sparking with their interrupted electrical current. The only way to close it now is to force it, but Corso knows he can’t do it by himself and panicked, he whirls around to look for Skavak but the man is nowhere to be seen. 

“Damn it!” he shouts.

Then, in the distance, Corso hears the defense cannon give a pneumonic sigh as it powers down. _She did it,_ he thinks with breath and wipes a hand across his forehead. He ducks behind the very same crate the Captain had leaned against only hours ago and pulls out his holo, hoping that the price of disabling the defense cannon hadn’t been the Captain’s life.

He’s almost too relieved to see her pixelated face, but she looks thoroughly annoyed with something. “Captain? It’s Corso. Listen, we’ve got trouble back at the hangar, and a lot of it!”

Her holo rolls its eyes. “And why are you whining to me about it?”

Irritation immediately ignites in his veins – this does not seem like the same easy going woman who had been in the hangar a few hours ago. “You have a blaster don’t you?” He snaps, “I’m sure you can figure it out!” Corso shakes his head and sighs. “Look, separatists broke into the hangar. We’re giving them a warm welcome, but we could use some extra blasters…”

Corso finally sees Skavak in his peripheral vision and sighs in relief. He turns back to the holo and pleads, “Just get here as soon as you can, okay?”

He doesn’t notice that his finger doesn’t quite press down on the ‘end’ button as he shouts out, “Skavak! Help me get this hangar door closed!”

The man in question turns toward Corso, and where he thinks there should be relief on Skavak’s face there’s _nothing_ , just a cold, expressionless mask. Corso’s mouth goes dry as he sees Skavak raise his blaster. “Sorry kid,” he says, “nothing personal.”

-

Through the fog of his unconsciousness, Corso can hear the blaster fire and the sound of small grenades, the last desperate gasps of men as they go down. But he can’t open his eyes to see what’s happening, everything _hurts_ and the sound of the fighting, the patter of blaster fire pulses in time with the pain and all he wants to do is _sleep_.

Finally, everything goes very still and very quiet. He recognizes the sound of a blaster behind holstered, and footsteps drawing closer. The presence of another person crouches down next to him and suddenly there are hands poking and prodding at his wounds, assessing damage before he feels the press of kolto packs and the numbness of healing.

“Soon as the call cut out, I figured something bad happened. Sorry I didn't get here sooner, the way back wasn't exactly cleared.”

He recognizes the Captain’s voice and manages to pry open his eyes to find her hovering over him. She’s taken some hits too, he notices, there are scorch marks on her jacket, blood dripping out of her nose, running over her lip. When the Captain’s noticed that he’s awake, her eyes meet his and she wipes blood on her sleeve and grants him a slow smile.

“You got lucky compared to everyone else,” she says, pressing another kolto to his shoulder, where Skavak's first round found its mark.

_‘Everyone else?’_ _She can’t mean…_ He tries to sit up, to see around her, but her hands press him back down, gently. “I wouldn’t,” she advises, “it’s not pretty.”

Corso’s tongue feels obnoxiously thick in his mouth, but he manages, “… I feel like a gundark used my head for a drum. Thanks for saving my hide, Captain.”

“That all you’re going to call me? I do have a name,” she chuckles.

“Yeah?” he says.

But the sound of engines and thrusters starting up distracts them both and the Captain is on her feet faster than Corso can blink. He manages to drag himself to his feet in time to see the Captain’s starship lift off and disappear into the atmosphere. A cold rage settles over the Captain’s features as she watches her starship fly away without her. In her now, Corso sees all the things that he didn't upon their first meeting - the capacity for ruthlessness, the eerie calm that hid a storm of blaster fire and blood.

She doesn’t turn to look at him as she says, “Who the _hell_ just flew away in _my_ ship?” And her words are even, measured, but there’s an edge to them that puts Corso on his guard because now he’s not entirely sure she won’t just blast him, too.

“Skavak, he let the separatists in, took all the weapons too. He stabbed us in the back!” Corso tells her.

A bitter, emotionless chuckle presses itself through her lips. “Son of a bitch,” she mumbles, hands planted on her hips. "I'm going to kill him."

And there's a quiet, smoldering resolve in her tone that says she's made up her mind on the matter.


	3. Ord Mantell III: Reputation - Syreena

> ORD MANTELL III  
> Reputation  
> Syreena

Syreena watches Viidu sigh as he ends the call with Corso and seeing the large man’s shoulders round in defeat, she almost feels bad.  Almost.

“So the Captain is on her way?” she asks, laying what Viidu would see as a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He nods. “Yeah and Riggs said she was not happy.” Another sigh, “Be a dear and pour me a drink would you?”

She does, taking the seat to Viidu’s right as she slides the rocks glass in front of him. The man contemplates his drink for a long while before he takes the first draw, something he rarely does. But Syreena knows better than anyone that Viidu isn't having a great week, and now having to deal with a trigger-happy smuggler who's ship was stolen after working for him was just going to be cherry on top of it all.

“What do we know about the Captain?” she asks.

Viidu doesn’t suspect that it’s not her own curiosity that makes her ask. Truth is, Skavak wants to know everything he can possibly know about the Captain who’s ship he stole; he wants to know just how much trouble she’s going to cause him. It was why Syreena agreed to stay behind, why she didn’t get mad when Skavak contacted her _after_ he’d already lifted off when he promised that the two of them would be leaving together.

Viidu takes another long sip from his drink before shaking his head. “Not much,” he admits. “She works only on referrals, runs everything from antiquities to refugees, to ordnance and medicine but absolutely refuses to do jobs involving slaves or spice; that’s why I hired her. I was going to have her do a run off-world after this job, take the refugees who’re unable to take the Republic transport to Coruscant – she’s one of the only smugglers _not_   known for selling her live cargo to slavers.”

Syreena swears internally. People could say whatever they liked about Viidu, but the man does have a good heart and the Captain was probably the only chance some of the innocent, displaced souls had at leaving the war torn side of this planet before her ship was commandeered. Viidu had never before wanted to risk smuggling people off-world for fear that they’d end up in slave pens, so the Captain has to at least be a good person for Viidu to risk trusting her with live cargo.

“And from what I’ve heard about her,” Viidu continues, “she’s not going to take Skavak stealing her ship lying down… If Rogun doesn’t get to her, and me, first. I can probably use that to my advantage when she gets here… but rumor is that she spaced the last guy who betrayed her.”

_Skavak’s not going to like hearing that_ , Syreena thinks, pulling her lip between her teeth. It sounds like the Captain is going to wind up causing him a lot of trouble he doesn’t want.  But if she can take Viidu out of the picture before he tells the Captain where Skavak has gone…

“Boss! She’s here.”

“Send her up!” Viidu calls. He tips back the remainder of his glass, coughing as the liquid burns a path down his throat. “If you don’t mind, honey, I’d like to talk to the Captain alone.”

Syreena nods. “Sure, Viidu,” she says and stoops to drop a kiss on his cheek.

The Captain gives a nod to Syreena as she passes in the doorway and instead of finding something to do around the warehouse like she used to, Syreena hangs just around the corner able to hear every word of the conversation thanks to the poor acoustics of the warehouse. Viidu, ever the gracious host, offers the Captain both a seat and a drink which she refuses.

“I tend not to drink in the middle of  warzones,” she replies.

“I see, understandable,” Viidu says, “but I hope you don’t mind if I do.”

Syreena hears the grating scratch of Viidu’s chair against the floor as he stands and a moment later hears the top of the decanter pop. “Corso tells me that we’ve had a bad day, so here’s a toast to all my favorite things that the separatists and that backstabber Skavak have ruined!” A moment of silence and Syreena imagines that Viidu has drained the entire contents of the glass he’d poured.

Footsteps too heavy to belong to the Captain cross back to the table in the center of the room. “To business then: those guns that Skavak stole in _your_ ship were going to Rogun the Butcher and as employers go… he’s not exactly forgiving.”

Syreena rolls her eyes at that understatement. Rogun doesn’t tolerate failure of any kind and the only reason Viidu isn’t dead for not procuring the chemicals that Rogun wanted a while back is because the contract with the Captain had already been agreed upon. Viidu has been falling out of favor with Rogun recently after schemes with paltry outcomes, but given the circumstances outside Fort Garnik, it could hardly be blamed on Viidu. But that didn't mean Rogun wouldn't do just that.

“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to work for difficult employers,” the Captain says.

“Feel sorry for yourself,” Viidu rumbles. “I may work for Rogun, but _you_ work for _me_ and he’ll blame us equally for this screw up. He’s killed enough people to fill bulk freighters and now, we’ve crossed him.”

Syreena hears the Captain snort derisively and imagines that the woman crosses her arms over her chest. “ _We’ve crossed him?_ As far as I’m aware, _Skavak_ is the one who stole the blasters and my ship.”

“Ah, and there’s where Rogun will get you – _your ship_ ,” Viidu points out.

“I don’t think so!” she retorts, and there’s the sound of her hand slamming down on the table. “Were the terms of my contract in anyway unclear? I am only responsible for your cargo from the moment my ship takes off at point A, to the moment it lands at point B. After the credits are in my hand, what happens to the cargo is not my concern, and as far as working for you goes – Skavak paid me my fee: I’m done. I just came here so you can tell me where the hell he might’ve been going.”

“And that’s the problem, I only have an _idea_ of where he might have been going and I don’t want to send you in the wrong direction, but I know someone who can give us a more definite answer. And even if I just sent you off, Rogun will still send bounty hunters after you with a price on your head that would make even you blush,” he tells her.

Again, there’s a scoff from the Captain. “He’s certainly welcome to try, and I can guarantee his bounty hunters will be as successful as all the others that have been sent after me.”

_Oh._

Syreena bites back a groan. Skavak is not going to like that one bit.


	4. Ord Mantell IV: Suspect Individuals - Alijah

> ORD MANTELL IV  
> Suspect Individuals  
> Alijah

Alijah doesn’t do what she does because she enjoys it… she does it because she’s _great_ at it. And for the credits of course. There’s a certain detachment that comes with it as well, knowing that she’s only in for one thing – it’s kind of like a one night stand.

Wham, bam, thank you ma’am! They get their goods, she gets her credits, deal’s done, and everyone’s happy. And they all get to skip the awkward morning after. Cold? Maybe, but she’s not exactly a people person.

One thing that she does enjoy about her work though, is that she does it _alone_. If there’s anything that being a smuggler has taught Alijah, it’s that people are greedy, and mixing greedy people with contraband goods that are worth more than her state-of-the-art cybernetic heart, and a stack of credits to boot is a compound for a very dangerous explosive. It’s also why she makes it very clear to her employers that betrayal of any kind will be answered with extreme force.

It’s a lesson that she’s had to teach people the hard way more than once, earning her more blood on her hands,  scars on her body and exorbitant bounties on her head than she’d like to admit. It’s one lesson that she’ll have to teach Skavak the hard way as well. Not that she’s bitter he stole the _Aces High_.

… Not at all.

Being in the line of work that she is, Alijah fully accepts that she is going to end up being in the presence of, or dealing with very… suspect individuals. But ever since she stopped smuggling spice and slaves, she finds that it’s easier to tolerate the other people who seek out her services. And that’s not to say there aren’t people who make her lip curl in disgust, because there’s _plenty_ of those, she can just do a better job at hiding it now.

And then she meets someone like Reki.

Just thinking about him again, Alijah feels like she needs a shower as she walks back into Viidu’s warehouse, shaking her shoulders hoping to shake off the disgust sliding down her spine. She should’ve just killed him and given the survival kit Viidu had given her to the ‘starving ladies’ Reki was occupying himself with because Alijah made sure that he’d given her what she needed before she handed it over. Or at least she should’ve caved in his smug face… it would have made her feel better anyway.

“We passed each other earlier, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Captain. I’m Syreena.”

Alijah looks up, blocking her way is the woman she’d seen leaving Viidu’s office earlier that day. She nods in acknowledgment. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she says and leans against the crate behind her. “My father flew starships you know, but I never developed a taste for it… too dangerous. I like my feet on solid ground.”

“You’re just the opposite of me, I don’t like to stay in one place for too long,” Alijah replies.

And there’s something about the way Syreena appraises her from head to toe that sets off warning bells in Alijah’s head. It’s too calculating as if she’s sizing up a foe and Alijah feels the muscles in her shoulders tense. The two women chat for a few more moments, Syreena expressing her sympathies over Alijah’s stolen ship and wondering just how bad the situation is. Alijah does her best to make the woman feel better, but comfort and small talk have never been two of her strong suits. Even so, they part ways saying how nice it was to talk to one another even though Alijah doesn’t believe that Syreena is entirely genuine and makes a mental note to watch her back

Just before she rounds into the room, she hears the farm boy, Corso’s voice. “Man, will you listen to this? _In the event of internal organizational betrayal resulting in loss of cargo after said cargo has been delivered and accounted for, the Captain of the Aces High is not to be held responsible or liable for the whereabouts or retrieval of the cargo in question_. Have to admit, she covered her bases.”

“Daddy was a hotshot lawyer on Coruscant, I learned well,” Alijah calls as she steps into the room.

She sees the flush that immediately darkens Corso’s cheeks and can’t help but smile. And she does give the boy credit that he doesn’t stumble over his words when he speaks to her again. “Your dad’s a lawyer? And you became a smuggler? He must be so proud.”

She shrugs, indifferent. “What can I say? I hate lawyers.”

“Nice work in Talloran,” Viidu says as he stands. “Reki told me that he gave you a way into the separatists’ hideout.”

“Yeah, and the creeps. I should’ve made that dirt-bag give my blaster a blowjob,” Alijah replies.

“He does have his… quirks, but he’s reliable. And here’s where everything gets tricky…”

Viidu explains that not only does she have to swim to Mannett Point, but the island is going to be crawling with separatists who will be all too thrilled to put their blasters to her forehead. And Corso is too adorable for words when he shuffles his feet and looks down before admitting that he’d rather go with her, but she’s glad that Viidu shuts him down because on a small island full of hostiles it’ll be easier to maneuver just herself as opposed to the two of them. And when Viidu tells her what happened to Corso’s family, she suddenly understands his desire to go with her and even more firmly believes that it’s better if he stays behind because fighting for revenge is never as satisfactory as it seems and it very nearly always turns you into the very person you were trying to exact revenge upon.


	5. Ord Mantell V: Crazy - Corso Riggs

 

> ORD MANTELL V  
>  Crazy  
>  Corso Riggs

The Captain’s been gone for four days and although Corso knows that she’s the kind of woman who can take care of herself, he’s still a bit worried… a lot worried, actually. The last thing they heard from her was the holo she’d sent letting them know that she had gotten onto the island with relatively little complication and that she’d try to contact them as soon as she was somewhere safer. He doesn’t want to imagine what the Captain would be put through if the separatists caught her.

 _I knew I should have gone with her_ , Corso thinks as he checks Viidu’s holoterminal for missed messages for what must be the twentieth time today.

Having acquired the slicer kit days ago, there's little else for Corso to do except putter around the warehouse and wait for the Captain to return. And while Corso would rather be out in the field, in the battle, after what happened with Skavak, Viidu has been keeping him close to Fort Garnik. He understands Viidu's concern since Corso was the person who most often worked with Skavak and there was that old line about keeping your enemies close and all that. Mostly it just irritates him, hasn't he already earned his place, proven his loyalty? Hasn't he proven it every single Maker-forsaken day since the conflict with the separatists began?

He's going stir crazy.

So, he busies himself with cleaning his blaster rifle, making sure it’s in top condition, which it always is but it never hurts just to make sure. The movements are as familiar to Corso as breathing, the clicks and sighs of metal as the rifle comes apart, and Corso feels just a bit of the anxiety melt away from his nerves. It’s a serviceable gun to be sure, but nowhere near as pretty as Torchy and as Corso cleans the stock and barrel he allows himself to delve into the fantasy of what exactly he’s going to do to Skavak for stealing her.

It’s mid-afternoon when Corso hears someone enter the warehouse and because he suspects that it’s Viidu and Syreena, he doesn’t get up. Next thing he knows, some calls out, “Please tell me there’s someone here!”

Brow furrowed, Corso moves to the railing overlooking the lower level warehouse. Standing in the middle of the room is a frantic looking Republic solider. “What’d you need?” Corso calls out.

The solider startles and whirls around to face him, and Corso doesn’t know who he was expecting but the guy’s expression collapses. “Viidu’s not here is he?”

Corso shakes his head. “No, why?”

The solider sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “There’s some crazy separatist bitch at the fort’s gate with a gun on one of our men trying to tell us that she’s not a separatist and that she’s only going to talk to Viidu.”

 _It couldn’t be…_ But Corso moves toward the stairs anyway. “What’s she look like?”

“Beat to hell,” he answers, plainly, “and _still_ managed to subdue two of our men.”

Corso nods and tells him, “I’ll come with you.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” the solider says and motions for him to follow.

The ‘crazy separatist bitch’ at the gate  is indeed the Captain, but she’s dressed in a separatist’s uniform. And despite the fact that the uniform is a more than a little worse for wear, he can tell that it was a man’s because it hangs loosely on her thin frame. The Captain herself is a mess and ‘beat to hell’ doesn’t quite cover the extent of the bodily damage that he can see. In fact, Corso wonders how the hell she’s still standing let alone breathing.

Through the wet, ropey tendrils of her hair, the Captain notices Corso and smiles widely, even daring to send him a sarcastic wave with her free hand. And although part of Corso is relieved to see that she’s alive, he’s more concerned with the fact that she has a blaster drawn on a Republic solider and every Republic gun has her in their crosshairs.

 “Farm boy!” she calls out. “Little help here?”

“You know her?” the CO asks.

Corso nods. “She’s working for Viidu, not a separatist. How did this happen?”

“She tried to walk into the fort, we tried to apprehend her and she resisted…” he explains. The CO sighs before calling out, “All right, let her in.”

The Captain immediately lowers the blaster she was holding. “Ha!” she exclaims, shoving the gun into the Republic soldier’s chest. “I told you!”

“Keep an eye on her,” the Commanding Officer mumbles to Corso as the Captain walks toward him.

Corso does just that as the Captain walks toward him. Her footsteps are measured, even, but he can see there’s pain in her eyes. He doesn’t make a move to help her walk or offer his arm somehow knowing that simply walking to him without any assistance in front of the soldiers is a matter of pride for the Captain. It’s only when they’re further into the fort that her steps start to falter, she starts to slow – her hip catches when she takes a step and the pain that was in her eyes is now etched across her knotted expression.

Finally Corso lends her his shoulder, throwing her good arm around the back of his neck, pulling her close. “You need a kolto tank, Captain.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she says and swallows, “I just need to lay down for a bit.”

The Captain may be tough, but Corso doubts that a small nap is all it's going to take.

“What the hell happened to you, Captain? It’s been days. I’ve – we’ve been worried sick,” Corso demands.

“Alijah,” she says, abruptly. “My name’s Alijah, Corso, you can start using it anytime. As for what happened: you really need to watch the first step off that bridge, it’s a doosie.”

… _She what!?_ “You jumped off the bridge! You could have killed yourself!”

“It was either the bridge or every separatist blaster on Mannett Point because it’s a little difficult to keep up the guise of being on their side when the trail of dead bodies ends where you’re standing,” Alijah informs him.  

After having watched the Captain maneuver through the barrage of AA fire those few days ago, Corso should have already figured that she was at least one flavor of crazy. Corso tilts his head and looks at Alijah, pale and struggling to walk at his pace, though her face is red with exertion. He shouldn’t have let Viddu send her by herself, he should have been there to watch her back and he hates himself for not insisting that he go with her.

Alijah stops suddenly, and Corso watches as her eyelashes flutter as if she's trying to focus her gaze. “Captain?”

“… I think I’m going t – ” She doesn’t finish. All of the color drains from her face before she slumps forward and vomits, then goes limp so suddenly that Corso nearly drops her to the ground.

He curses under his breath, adjusting his hold on the Captain and lifts her up so she’s draped in his arms. Heart in his throat, the only thing that comforts him is the steady expansion of Alijah’s chest as she breathes.


	6. Ord Mantell VI: Kolto Tanks and Blasters - Alijah

> ORD MANTELL VI  
>  Kolto Tanks and Blasters  
>  Alijah

Alijah wakes slowly to the disconcerting feeling of weightlessness. Before the rational half of her mind catches up, Alijah panics, waving her arms and kicking her legs while her cyberoptics take a moment to come online. Her eyesight flickers back and she realizes quickly that she’s inside a kolto tank. It’s not the first time Alijah’s been in a kolto tank, so she’s used to how the blue liquid and the curve of the glass changes the way the world looks. Everything is warped, stretched where the glass curves the most and pinched where the glass comes to meet the back of the tank.

Despite the fact that Alijah knows where she is, the panic has not ebbed. It brings back memories of days suspended in kolto, fully conscious and well aware of the pain coursing through her body, watching as doctors and cybernetic techs checked her vitals and made sure that her body didn’t reject the cybernetics.  It reminds her of weeks, immobile in a hospital room that looked too much like a lab, as she twitched and spasmed uncontrollably while the cybernetics carved new neural pathways as she slowly regained control of her body.

In short, it reminds Alijah of her own personal hell.

It takes much longer than Alijah would have liked but the medical droid finally makes its rounds back to her tank only to realize that she is conscious. It does a quick check of her vitals before letting her know that it will start to drain the kolto, and not to attempt to leave the tank prematurely. The kolto reaches her knees, and when she hears a ‘ding!’, Alijah reaches for the straps of the breathing apparatus secured to her face.

A moment after the glass has slid away, Alijah steps out and takes a seat on the nearby chair. The medical droid turns from the tank’s controls and approaches her, assessing the screen built into its arm that is surely showing her vitals. The droid ticks off the list of her injuries when she was admitted and put into the kolto tank, and that she has been in the kolto tank for about two days.

Then the droid gives her a clean bill of health and wishes her a good day… by name.

Alijah isn’t quite sure she heard the droid correctly and so asks, “I’m sorry, who did you say brought me in?”

“Your husband brought you in approximately two days ago.”

The only problem would be that Alijah’s not married, unless you count to her starship. She’s not even seeing anyone. In fact, Alijah can’t even remember the last time she was in a relationship that didn’t involve waking up in a bed not her own and sneaking out before her bedmate woke up.

“I see, thank you,” she says  and stands to leave the medcenter.

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Riggs," the droid says to her retreating form.

Alijah tries not to cringe as she steps out into the afternoon.

 

-

 

Alijah hears the footsteps on the stairs leading up to the second floor of the warehouse and sighs, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she’s positive is about to occur.

“Captain? I thought for sure that you’d need another day or two in the kolto tank,” Corso comments upon noticing her laying on a bench in the room.

She doesn’t open her eyes, unsure how she’s going to face the man who so boldly told the medical droid that he was her husband. Instead she shrugs, “I’m built a little tougher than most.”

“You left a big mess in my warehouse! Syreena said it was Bracco’s fault, but now I have a huge morale problem!”

Alijah rolls her eyes, swinging her legs to shift to a sitting position from the bench she’d been laying on. She figured that  Viidu was going to have an issue with the action she had taken with one of his lackeys, but in all honesty, she can’t find it in her to care all that much. She was already cranky when she arrived back at the warehouse and teaching some snarky little lackey a lesson had been just what the doctor ordered. Besides, she’s not here to make friends, she’s here to get her ship back.

“I don’t apologize,” Alijah replies blandly. “What I do and why is no one’s business but my own.”

“Considering that you’re still working for me, it’s my business as well. My people have better things to do than clean blood off the floor, it’s bad for business,” Viidu answers.

“And someone stealing the cargo I smuggled in for you wasn’t?” she counters.

Viidu appears to choose to ignore her comment, going on to say how Corso had gotten them a slicer kit, and that while they were decrypting the data she recovered, he had another job for her. Needless to say, this does not make Alijah happy, all she wants is to get off of this backwater planet and return to the endless expanse of the sky. The more errands she runs for Viidu the longer that she’s stuck here, though she expects that he keeps asking her to be errand bitch because his people are a little more than incompetent.

At least she’s still getting paid, but still – “Haven’t I done enough for you yet?”

Evidently not and the news that she could possibly come back as “gooey chunks of ex-captain” does not thrill her. At least she’ll be getting hazard pay.

 _I am really starting to hate this damn planet_ , Alijah thinks.

Corso’s leaning against a wall when Alijah walks into the foyer of the warehouse, but as soon as he sees her, he straightens out. “What’s up, Corso?” she wonders, shifting her weight to one hip.

“This run is no joke Cap – Alijah, you’re going to need an edge to make it back alive.” He looks a little nervous and shuffles his feet a moment before pulling a blaster from his belt. “This here is a SoroSuub SSK heavy blaster. It’s cut for a quick draw and has a hair trigger… I call it _Flashy._ ” As he talks, Corso turns the blaster over in his hands almost admiring it and Alijah can hear the affection in his tone as he talks – it actually brings a small smile to her face.

And then he looks back up at her, his expression intense. “Flashy was the first blaster I ever owned, and I want you to have it,” he tells her and grabs one of her hands, placing the blaster in her open palm and whether unconsciously or not, his thumb runs over the sensitive skin of her wrist.

Alijah for one is floored. She’s gotten gifts before, but they’re usually cheap, lackluster and as unmemorable as the person who gave it to her. Corso on the other hand is giving her something he cherishes, something that probably holds countless memories for him and he is choosing to entrust it to her, someone he’s only known for a little over a week.

The thing is in Alijah’s life she doesn’t have things that she cherishes, and she certainly wouldn’t entrust something she cherishes to someone like her. Especially considering the propensity of objects like the one she’s holding to end up sold to someone else for a stack of credits. And with that in mind, Alijah can’t accept the gift.

She shakes her head, but doesn’t attempt to pull her hand away from Corso’s. “I can’t take your first blaster, Corso, ‘sides I’ve got one already and it’s not too shabby.”

“I ain’t taking no for an answer, you’re taking it. I’ll breathe a lot easier knowing you’re ready for anything.”

With a final squeeze, Corso releases her hand, gives her a crooked smile and turns away. Alijah contemplates, the blaster in her hand with a smile on her face.

Then her smile turns deviant as she turns to face Corso’s retreating form and shouts after him, “Thanks, hubby!”

He turns on his heel, face alight with a blush and scratches the back of his neck. “I was supposed to be there when you got out of the tank, I was going to warn you!”

Alijah laughs. _Maybe it’s not so bad after all._


End file.
